


I Think I Fell Too Deep

by uaigneach



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Dead Georgie Denbrough, M/M, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Minor Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Minor Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Monsters, Multi, Not IT Chapter Two Compliant, POV Outsider, Pennywise (IT) Being an Asshole, Polyamorous Losers Club (IT), Post-Canon, Power Dynamics, Teenage Losers Club (IT)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-25 16:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaigneach/pseuds/uaigneach
Summary: What people tend to forget is that It had been part of Derry ever since the land was first made. Derry had never existed without a monster, and now the Losers Club had gone and killed It.Derry must have a monster, and the right has passed to them.





	1. Maybe We're Just Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Derry's Monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751967) by [uaigneach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaigneach/pseuds/uaigneach). 

> Titles from [Ghosts (NITW)](https://youtu.be/v1B80DsHwc8) by [MandoPony](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfYV42dBZipAMNdcF1eYZBw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is dead. Now they have to handle the consequences of their actions.

# I. 

# Maybe We’re Just Ghosts

“Georgie?”

As soon as the name escaped Bill’s lips, he knew what he was seeing. Out from the shadows a small figure stumbled into view, clutching a paper boat tightly in a small meaty fist. The boat was crumpled and bloodstained; it did a poor job of hiding the shredded skin still clinging to his upper arm. Below the boat, there was no arm to be seen. 

Georgie stumbled closer, a petulant pout clear on his face as he glared at Bill. “What took you so long?” he whined. 

“I… I was looking for you this whole time.” his voice trembled as he watched Georgie stumble towards him. He hated how broken he sounded.

“I couldn’t find my way out of here,” Georgie continued to whine. He was only standing a couple feet in front of Bill now, the light catching his lack of an arm in all of its gory glory. Despite the grime and blood, Georgie’s face still looked as perfect and clean as when Bill’d last seen him.“He said I could have my boat back, Billy.”

Bill swallowed thickly, choking on an involuntary sob. He shouldn’t have walked away from the other Losers, but he⸺ “Was she fast?” his voice broke on the last word.

Georgie’s pout slipped off of his face, being replaced by a rather pitiful and confused look. “I couldn’t keep up with it.” he admitted. 

Bill couldn’t look away from Georgie’s face. He hadn’t seen it in so long⸺he was trying to memorize every detail. “She, Georgie,” he said, “we call boats ‘she.,”

Georgie glanced down at the boat in his hand before staring back up at Bill; right into his eyes and his very soul. “Take me home, Billy.”

Behind him, the water began to slosh and Bill heard the sounds of the Losers gathering behind him. All of them froze in place at the sight of Georgie. His lower lip trembled violently as Georgie began to look like he was going to cry. “I wanna go home.” Bill choked on a sob. “I miss you! I wanna be with Mom and Dad.”

“I want more than anything for you to be home,” Bill whispered. “With Mom, and Dad. I missed you so much.” Bill’s arms hung limply at his side as he took a couple steps forward, coming to stop right in front of the figure of his little brother. If he just reached out, he could ruffle Georgie’s hair. 

“I love you, Billy.”

More tears fell down his cheeks. “I love you too.” How many times had he wished that he could have said this to Georgie, just one more time before he’d been killed? How many times had he wished that he could hold his little brother again⸺protect him from the world and the likes of It. Georgie was crying silently too, and Bill could hear the others behind him crying too. 

He steeled his nerves and slowly raised his arm, leveling the bolt gun touching Georgie’s head. His face was all screwed up in the face that he made when he sobbed. Georgie had always been an ugly crier, even for a kid. “But you’re not Georgie.” Georgie whimpered loudly as the metal touched his little forehead. Somewhere deep inside him, Bill had known that Georgie was dead. Georgie had been dead ever since he’d gone out in the rain without Bill and chased after that damned boat. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it. He still didn’t want to admit it, but that was what had happened. Georgie was dead and gone, and this was just a fake; a mimic. 

He pulled the trigger without hesitation, hitting Georgie right in the middle of his head. His face blanked into a look of shock before he fell backwards; all dead weight. Bill bit back a sob as he stared at the physical manifestation of his guilt. He’d always blamed himself for Georgie’s death, and now here he had actually shot Georgie in the head.

His hands were trembling. 

Georgie was still for only a moment before the limbs began to twitch violently and then it was all happening so fast. 

Before Bill could even comprehend what was happening; everyone was screaming “kill It!” and Bill was shooting an unloaded gun. When that ultimately had no effect he grabbed whatever he could find and launched himself at the clown along with all the others. They were thrown off of Its body one by one until suddenly It had him. It’s long finger wrapped entirely around his neck and still had enough room to dig Its claw-like fingers into his chin and cheek. 

“Let him go!” someone yelled. Bill couldn’t tell. Blood was pounding through his ears. He could smell the rot and decay emanating from It’s body. 

“No!” It giggled gleefully, wrenching Bill even closer to It’s body. “I’ll take him! I’ll take all of you! And I’ll feast on your flesh as I feed on your fear.” It was trembling in excitement. Bill clawed at the arm holding him, but the claws only dug further into his skin, tearing just enough to draw blood. It waggled It’s fingers as the Losers. Bill could _ hear _the grin It was wearing. “Or~” It singsonged. “You just leave us be.” It’s other hand descended on his face, smothering him and rendering breathing nearly impossible. The fingers danced across his skin, pressing up against his reluctantly closed eyes and caging him in.

“I will take him⸺only him⸺and I will have my long rest. And you will all live to grow and thrive to lead haaaappy lives.” Bill had never heard someone⸺something, sound so insane. His high pitched voice was intermixed with the wet sound of drool and the wheeze of breathing too much and damaged lungs. It’s voice then changed, deepening into a hissed rasp as It delivered It’s threat. “Until old age takes you back to the weeds.”

Bill finally managed to shove the hand off of his face. “Leave!” he gasped out frantically. It was the logical thing to do. If It kept It’s promise then they could escape with their lives. Bill had been _ so stupid. _ He should never have dragged everyone to the house. He should have just left well enough alone. Then they could have all lived. It was all his fault. All he ever did was get people killed. “I’m the one who dragged you all into this. I’m s-s-suh-sorry. I’m s-suh-s-sorry.” His voice was thick with emotion as he reached out to them, pleading desperately for them to just run. He just wanted them to _ live. _Couldn’t they see that?

It giggled hysterically, mimicking him mockingly. “S-s-s-sorry!”

“Go!” he yelled. Why weren’t they moving? Why weren’t they leaving him?

The Losers were all glancing around at each other with panicked expressions. The choice should have been simple, so why were they hesitating? “Guys, we can’t.” Beverly said, her voice just as desperate as it had been the last time she’d plead to the group. Back when Richie had told Bill the truth he hadn’t wanted to hear and they’d almost lost each other forever. It cackled in glee as It watched the torment flicker through their expressions. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. 

Richie stood up from where he’d fallen to the ground when It threw him. “I told you, Bill.” His face was stormy with anger, but his voice betrayed just how afraid he was. It trembled and cracked with every word. “I _ fucking _told you. I don’t wanna die. It’s your fault.” As each blunt statement was uttered, It was shaking him. He felt a pang from his heart at every word that Richie threw at him. His voice was barely above a whisper, but in the deep cavern of the sewers, it felt as loud as stadium speakers. Bill wanted to close his eyes so he didn’t have to see the look of hate on Richie’s face, but if he was going to die, he wanted to die knowing that they would get away. 

“You punched me in the face,” Richie continued, beginning to move around as he ticked off the numerous offences that Bill had leveled at him over the course of the summer, his voice gaining strength and anger with every statement. “You made me walk through shitty water, you brought me to a fucking crackhead house, and now?” Richie turned to the pile of shit beside him, easily pulling a baseball bat from the top of it. “I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown.”

Bill’s eyes widened and then It was wrenching him to the side and tossing him to the ground without care. It was too busy shrieking at Richie as it advanced. 

“Welcome to the Losers’ Club, Asshole!”

The bat made a wet smashing sound as Richie caught It right across the mouth. Immediately following him, Mike took his own weapon and launched an assault against the clown. But to their dismay, It met Mike with hands clawing out from It’s throat. 

It was screaming and then they were rushing it with various weapons, stabbing and beating wherever they could. Someone was screaming “kill It!” again, but Bill couldn’t tell who. It might have been him. 

There was so much blood⸺it was all over them and they just kept going. It was wailing something fierce, but they didn’t dare let up in their assault. Bill grabbed a chain, swinging it around like a nunchuck and cutting through any bandages that leapt forwards to try and tie them up. At one point, they’d gotten It to the ground when It chose to throw up right at Eddie. 

Eddie froze for a millisecond before a look of pure rage crossed his features. “I’m gonna kill you!” he shrieked, attacked with newfound vigor and kicking It right in the face. It rolled over, squealing and gurgling as It tried to right itself. He lurched upwards, wearing the face of a man. 

It smirked creepily, making eye contact with Beverly as she walked forwards. “Hey, Bevvie,” It purred. “Are you still my little gi⸺”

With a battle cry, Beverly thrust her fence post right down It’s throat. The illusion shattered as It choked on the metal pole, loudly gasping and drooling as it trembled violently. It cowered away from them, spitting out the pole and crawling backwards as fast as it could. 

“That’s why you didn’t kill Beverly,” Bill said bravely, marching forwards to back It further into a corner. “S-s-sh-sh-she wasn’t afraid.” he stuttered and then he smirked. “And we aren’t either. Not anymore. Now you’re afraid.”

It trembled, a look crossing It’s face that Bill hadn’t even thought It was capable of; fear. It’s eyes were wide as it stared up at them. Mike handed Bill an axe, and Bill reading his arm to swing, to end It once and for all. 

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” It hissed frantically, eyes wild. “There are things happening in Derry that none of you know about. Derry won’t exist without a monster! Derry has always had a monster⸺you’re playing with things you can’t possibly understand.” 

Bill cocked his head to the side slightly, staring down at the thing that had killed so many people impassively. It made a very pitiful sight. He could almost pity It. Almost. 

“We’ll take our chances.” And with a grunt, he swung with all his force, lopping It’s head clean off It’s shoulders. As soon as the head his the ground he was hacking at it with the axe until nothing but a bloody pulp remained. It’s body was unmoving. Not so much as a twitch by the time Bill was done smashing It’s skull to smithereens. 

They stood in silence, Bill not loosening his grip on the axe even slightly. It had to be dead. 

An eerie quiet had fallen over them, none of them so much as breathing loudly. Only the drips of water broke the silence as they all stared at the bloody broken corpse. Bill didn’t know how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity before sound suddenly returned all at once. Suddenly, the water was so very loud, and the shuffling of clothing was more than audible. 

“The kids are floating down.”

Bill’s head snapped up to see that Eddie was right. All the kids that had been floating around the trash heap in the centre of the cavern were all lowering to the ground and piling up in the water. 

Bill let the axe slip from his fingers as he turned away from the dead children to look at the edge of the trash heap. Amongst all the rot and the mud, there was a single burst of colour. A bright yellow raincoat. His feet moved without his permission and soon he was kneeling in front of the bloody child’s raincoat, the blood soaking through his already stained jeans. The others followed his line of sight, approaching with hesitance. 

He reached out slowly, picking up the coat with the kind of reverence that one used when touching something holy. The label on the collar was still legible; ‘Georgie Denbrough’ written in black ink. Bill felt an overwhelming amount of emotion, but for some reason, no tears escaped his eyes. It was as if he had cried himself out and now all that was left was the grief. He slowly brought the little jacket close to his chest, his breathing going uneven as he desperately tried to cry. But nothing came, just horrendous sobs without any tears. He curled in on himself, ignoring the arms that were wrapped around him, offering silent comfort.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Just let it out.” A voice whispered softly beside his left ear. Stanley. It was Stanley. Bill knew that as certain as he knew that Georgie was _ dead _ and _ gone. _He leaned into the touch, desperately seeking the touch and love that Stan offered so readily. 

“It’s over,” Beverly insisted quietly from his other side. “We can rest now. It’s gone.”

And it actually was. _ It was dead. _They’d killed it. 

Bill didn’t know what came next. He’d never really thought farther than killing It. He doubted the others had either. He needed to pull himself together. 

Still pulling the jacket tightly to his chest, he shifted to look at the Losers who’d all gathered around him on the ground. Eddie was leaning heavily into Richie’s side, his broken arm hanging limply in his lap, the cast surprisingly still white while the rest of him was a mess. He was completely coated in the black sludge that It had vomited on him. For the most part, he appeared unharmed. Richie’s pants were soaked up to the knee and he had some pretty gruesome blood spatter across his front, but he also appeared to have been unharmed by It. 

Mike was sitting stiffly, having been thrown into the walls numerous times and no doubtedly very bruised. He had blood on his temple and some bruises beginning to form on his arms as well as minor abrasions. He’d had a fight with Henry before going into the sewers, so at least the injuries weren’t severe. Ben also appeared to a little banged up, having slight bruising along his throat from when It had strangled him. Beverly was covered in blood due to how close she’d been when she’d violently stabbed the clown. Bill couldn’t judge, he too was covered in blood⸺both his own and It’s. 

Stan was curled up around Bill, making it a bit harder to see the state that he was in. His hands were covered in blood all the way up to his elbows. There was a ring of still sluggishly bleeding wounds around his face from when It had tried to eat him. His curls were matted with blood and muck, and his usually pristine clothing was wrinkled and grimey. Stan showed no concern about his state and instead stared almost impassively down at Bill. There was a hint of concern buried in his oddly bright eyes. It was well masked, but Bill knew it was there. 

Bill himself was absolutely filthy, but like the others, it just didn’t seem to matter anymore. He could feel the tug of cuts along his jaw and spreading down to his neck. The beginnings of bruising on his own neck was beginning to ache, and he had no doubt that talking would only aggravate it more. Weren’t you meant to rest your voice after being strangled? 

Another cut bisected his right eyebrow from when It had smothered him, and like Stan, his arms were covered in blood and guts. He could feel the ache of everything beginning to settle into his bones⸺like Mike and Ben, he’d been repeatedly body slammed in the struggle and he would be lucky if nothing was broken. 

“Is everyone seriously injured?” he rasped, wincing at how wrecked his voice sounded. It broke the solemn silence and brought everyone out of the moment of mourning. Everyone did a quick once-over, shaking their heads when all they came up with were minor injuries that just needed a good cleaning and some band aids. 

Stan’s arm tightened around his chest minutely, and Stan frowned at him. “Bill, I do believe that you’re the most injured out of all of us.” he said reasonably, getting nods of support from the others. His tone was oddly steely despite the obvious concern that he felt. 

“Yeah, Bill. We need to get those cuts cleaned out⸺who knows what It had on those claws.” Eddie agreed, speaking quickly and sharply.”

Bill shook his head minutely. “N-no.” he stated resolutely. “There are s-some things that we need to sort out f-f-f-first.”

Stan frowned, but Stan had always been smart. He could read Bill easily. “You mean the whole monster thing.” Bill jerked his chin sharply. That was exactly what he was concerned about. It was definitely a last ditch effort on It’s part to convince them to back off, but it was still something to be concerned about. As far as they knew, It _ had _been a part of Derry ever since the town was founded. And now they’d killed the supernatural force that had been a driving force to hiding all the peculiarities of Derry. It was the reason why none of the adults ever paid too much attention to anything. What would happen now?

“To the victors go the spoils,” Ben said suddenly, drawing attention to him. “When beings of power are removed from the equation, it leaves behind a void; a power vacuum. Something will either come to fill it or rise to take its place.”

They’d killed Bowers and they’d killed It. There were a lot of things that weren’t quite adding up, and Bill knew deep in his bones that things had already shifted irreversibly. The Law of Conservation of Mass states that matter can neither be created or destroyed⸺Bill suspected that this law applied to the power that It possessed. It had already transferred to them. 

He shouldn’t have been able to hear as well as he did. He shouldn’t have known exactly what Stan was feeling. Even now he could feel intimately where each and every one of the Losers were. If he focused, he could feel what the others were feeling. He could _ taste _the emotions in the air. It was… unsettling. He hadn’t expected this outcome and now… well not they had to make the best of it. 

“It’s our right.” He rasped. “Only a monster can kill another monster. It’s what they n-nuh-never tell you in fairytales, but it’s true.”

Richie looked around wildly, but Bill could tell that it was more for the semblance of normal than anything else. Richie knew just as well as Bill did, that what he said was true. He could feel and see the subtle changes just as well as any of them. “What? You can’t possibly be serious! We’re just kids! It’s fucking summer.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, smacking the boy beside him. “Would you just give the summer thing a rest? It’s getting pretty old, Richie.” Richie scowled, but he didn’t verbally disagree. Just in this one interaction, it had become evident that whatever changes were happening were settling a little firmer with every moment. Before, Eddie’s voice had been shrill and shaky with panic. Now, it was still fast paced and recognizably his, but there was an undertone to it that wasn’t there before. 

All of their voices were just a little bit sharper and less friendly. Their eyes were just a little too bright for how dimly lit the cavern was. The light from above had begun to fade as the time passed and yet they were still brightly shining. In fact, Bill could see better than before. It was too dark to be able to see the injuries normally, but Bill had no issues. None of the others appeared to be concerned about this fact either. 

Bill ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling the slightly pointed edges. 

“We’re not really kids anymore, are we?” Beverly mused quietly. A smile graced her delicate features, a mischievous look crossing her face. “Bill’s right. Regular kids don’t kill monsters. We know better than anyone just how monstrous humans can be. The question is, what happens now?” she quirked an eyebrow at her in the way that she did. 

Stan stood up before Bill could speak, tugging him to his feet as well. “I don’t know about what we’re meant to do about all of this, but we need to get out of here and clean out everyone’s wounds. We don’t know exactly how far these… changes will go and I don’t want to risk infection. Eddie’s right there.”

Bill allowed himself to be lead back towards the mouth of the cavern, still clutching the yellow jacket tightly. “You can all feel it, can’t you? The change is already happening. I th-thuh-think that whatever needs to happen will happen w-w-without our interference. We just need to let things… settle.”

And that was that. No one chose to refute him.

They trudged through the water, walking instinctively through the tunnels and eventually coming to the tunnel by the quarry. The sun was setting, painting the sky with shades of lilac and pink. The water was green and murky, but in comparison to the sewers, it was very clean. 

Eddie bent down and without hesitation, quickly dunked his head under the water to get as much of the puke off of his face as possible. Bill couldn’t blame him, but it did bring up another problem. “How d-do we want to spin this?” he asked. “Bowers is dead, and we’re covered in blood.”

Stan looked up at the sky. “We’ve also been gone long after the curfew.”

Beverly cocked her head to the side and watched as Eddie scrubbed at his skin. “Well, we could always say that we were kidnapped by whatever’s been taking the kids. 

Ben’s eyes lit up. “It went after Georgie first, so we can say that Bill was the main target since he had already killed his brother. It was a crime of opportunity and the rest of us got snatched too, not wanting to let Bill go alone.”

Beverly shook her head. “But what about my dad? Before It grabbed me he⸺”

“So Bev got taken first.” Richie cut in. “It was a home invasion, her dad put up a fight. Bowers was there with a knife and took you into the sewers. It and Bowers had two hostages now. We couldn’t overpower them. We were scared.”

It was obvious to them the mocking in Richie’s voice, but he did an admirable job at concealing it outwardly. Richie had always been the best actor out of all of them. 

Eddie had finally gotten the worst of the puke off of his face and was now thoroughly soaked. “Well?” he snapped. “What are we waiting for? Let’s walk to the police station. I’m sure a bunch of kids walking through town covered in blood will draw more than enough attention. Oh God, my mom’s going to kill me.” 

So, they went. 


	2. This Town is Broken Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were missing and they were looked for.

# II. 

# This Town is Broken Down

For once, it seems that the adults actually _ weren’t _useless. 

The walk from the quarry to the police station was rather long, but they had only gotten 5 minutes down the road when they came across an entire search team. It looked like most of the Sheriff’s department was out at the edge of the woods armed with guns and flashlights. They were calling their names, and he could tell that they were worried. 

Bill raised his hand, the Losers coming to an abrupt but silent halt. The cops are scared, but determined. A bunch of kids covered in blood wasn’t going to look good. All the same, the entire department was a little… overkill. What had happened that they didn’t know about? 

“Huh-h-hello?” he called, his voice sounding surprisingly childish in that moment. He hadn’t sounded like that in years. Usually it was Richie that had the ability to mimic things when he wasn’t being an absolute asshole. 

It wasn’t just the cops that were combing the woods, Bill caught sight of his parents and numerous other adults. As soon as they heard his voice, their heads shot towards their section of the path. 

“Oh my god⸺”

“Is that⸺

“⸺the Denbrough boy⸺”

“They’re covered in blood!”

“⸺happened to them?”

“Holy shit!”

It was a clamor of noise as the parents rushed forwards, stopping a couple feet away when Bill made a show of flinching away from them. Following suit, Richie pushed Eddie behind him and Beverly made a show of cowering behind Bill. The arm he’d had held up flew out to the sides as if he was trying to block the others from the view of the adults. Bill let the illusion sink over them. They were just kids who’d been kidnapped and barely escaped with their lives. 

Flashlights shone on them as the police quickly followed the parents. This time Bill didn’t have to fake his flinch. His eyes had gotten used to the dark of the sewers and now he had light flashing in his eyes. He resisted the urge to hiss and spit at them. “Mom?” he asked stupidly. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see that they were there, but they hadn’t said a word to him all summer. It was like he hadn’t existed; like he’d died the same time Georgie did. 

His mother clutched her necklace tightly, crying softly and reaching out with her other arm. “Oh! Billy! Come here, it’s okay.” she said, trying to reassure him. Bill took half a step back, watching as a heartbroken look flickered across the faces of the parents gathered there. The Losers followed Bill’s example and stayed away from the adults, even if Bill could feel that at least Mike and Ben wanted to go to their respective guardians. Mike’s grandfather had a hard and solemn look in his eyes; like he knew what had happened. Or at least, had a better idea of what had really been going down in the town of Derry. Ben’s parents had always cared for him. His parents were often just busy with work and sent him to the library more often than not. Ben had been a lonely kid before the Losers. Heck, Bill didn’t even know if Ben’s parents knew about the Losers. That would have to be corrected. 

Richie’s mother was there too, looking worse than Bill had ever seen her. She was regularly drunk, but she’d never been abusive⸺unlike his father. He’d been sent to prison years before for domestic abuse and attempted murder. It had been a while since Richie had mentioned his father. Richie’s mother hadn’t handled being a single mother all that well and had turned to wine to deal with the stress of supporting the household. Richie getting in trouble for his mouth hadn’t helped there. He was apparently far too much like his father, and his mother had avoided seeing Richie. Richie was always more subdued whenever his mother was home and sober for dinner. 

Beside her stood Eddie’s mother. The whale of a woman looked absolutely furious and was huffing like an angry bull dressed in her bright pink tracksuit. Her hair was an absolute mess and Eddie did not look like he wanted to go anywhere near her. He willingly hid a little further behind Richie at the sight. 

Stan’s parents were there too, standing beside and slightly behind Bill’s own parents. They looked just as concerned and distraught as Bill’s parents. They were more reserved however. Bill knew that Stan’s bar mitzvah hadn’t gone well. Stan had sworn and his speech and his parents had been incredibly displeased with Stan’s lack of restraint. They were a stifling couple and they didn’t know how to handle some of Stan’s more apparent peculiarities. Bill’s parents were crying and reaching for their son⸺the only ones out of the assembled parents that had already lost a child and feared that they were losing another. 

Bev’s father was not present. He’d been dead for hours.

“Alright, now I’m gonna put down the gun, okay?” One of the officers said slowly, telegraphing every single move he made. “My name is Officer Cunningham. We’ve been looking for you. We’re not going to hurt you.” He squatted down slowly, unloading the gun in front of them and then placing it on the ground, still holding the flashlight. He then slowly took steps toward them with his hands in the air. He was within arms distance when he reached out to touch Bill’s arm. 

“Don’t touch him!” Beverly shrieked, real panic in her voice. She was trembling behind Bill’s arm, and Bill was ashamed to admit that his own limbs were trembling. He was having a moment of weakness. The adrenaline was finally beginning to leave them, even though they weren’t safe. They were in the presence of the police force⸺ a police force lead by Henry Bowers’ father. 

Then again, Henry had had an awful lot of blood on him by the time he’d chased after then.

Officer Cunningham slowly raised his arm away from Bill’s, turning to look at Beverly. “Beverly Marsh?” he asked stupidly, his gaze hardening slightly. Bill tilted his chin upwards a bit more, looking for all the world like the defiant teenager that he was. 

“D-don’t come any c-closer.” His stuttering was disarming. He knew this. Any sign of hostility that had begun to appear suddenly melted away from his body. “I wuh-w-won’t let you hurt huh-her.” 

“I promised that I wouldn’t hurt you,” Officer Cunningham reminded him gently. “We just want to make sure that you’re okay. Will you let some people look your over? Those look like some pretty nasty cuts. They have to hurt.” AL]lmost as if on cue, his chin throbbed and he felt every ache in his joints. He loathed to look away from the adults, but he knew that that reluctance to take his eyes off them would be out of character. Besides, Stan was having a pretty solid stare down with some of the other cops. Bill turned to look at the others, making eye contact with them. As much as they were no longer children, that didn’t mean that they knew anything about first aid. They would have had to go to the adults eventually. Taking care of Ben’s stomach wound when Henry had first carved that ‘H’ into his stomach had been stupid enough. They were in over their heads.

“Okay. But th-they come h-here.”

Officer Cunningham quickly made a jerking motion with his hand and an Emergency First Responder rushed forwards with a kit. Soon, two others followed. They wasted no time in checking out Stan’s face and looking over all of the Losers. Inexplicably, the strength left his limbs and he stumbled, earning shrieks of fear from the women. Stan steadied him gently, cradling his head as he slid them both to the ground, the EMS worker joining him. Bill’s eyes drooped and his limbs felt cold. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He shouldn’t be feeling so _ weak. _

One by one, he heard more thumps as the Losers fell in a heap around him, curling away from the prodding hands of the officers and parents who had rushed forward in panic. They were all so tired, and the feedback of exhaustion overwhelmed him. He gasped weakly against Stan’s side before finally succumbing to the darkness creeping along the edges of my vision. 


	3. I Wish I Could Say That I Feel Sad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers have to explain what happened.

# III. 

# I Wish I Could Say That I Feel Sad

He woke slowly, hearing the beeps of a hospital monitor. He was wearing a hospital gown and completely clean. There were bandages plastered to his chin and the cuts along his arms. Some kind of cream was slathered onto his throat and he groaned softly when his bones clicked. 

“Whoa there, Big Bill. Slow down.”

He wrenched his head to the side, immediately regretting it when his neck protested to the movement. Richie was sitting to his left in a chair along with Eddie. Both of them were wearing new clothes and Eddie’s hair was wet like he’d just had a shower. His cast had been removed, and surprisingly, it looked as if his arm had never been broken in the first place. 

“H-how long⸺” his throat ached heavily and he swallowed thickly, struggling to speak. 

“Don’t talk yet, Bill.” He turned to his right, seeing Stan sitting on the edge of the hospital bed along with Beverly at the foot of his bed. Ben was sitting in a chair on the left and Mike was leaning against the wall across from Bill’s bed. They too were clean and had small plasters over their injuries. Stan, being the worst, also had bandages wrapped around his face, covering the bite marks around his face. “You’re the last to wake up. You’ve been out for a couple hours. The police have yet to question us. We refused to leave your side.”

Bill relaxed into the pillows, seeing that everyone of the Losers was accounted for. He tried to speak again, but Stan just offered up a small cup of ice chips. Taking one carefully in his fingers, he offered it to Bill. Bill flushed slightly, but his throat hurt so much, so he accepted the little ice chip. 

Beverly leaned forwards, resting her chin on her folded arms. “They police found my father around the same time that they found Sheriff Bowers. Both have been ruled homicides and the main suspect is Bowers.” she informed him, whispering lowly as it it were a conspiracy. They think that I killed my father because of the signs of struggle and the weapon being on the ground. But then they saw the blood on the walls and the message. But the Sheriff was definitely killed by Bowers. He came walking out of the quarry only a couple hours before us and went right back to his house where he was promptly arrested. The little psycho was absolutely covered in blood.”

“And how did you find this out?” Richie mockingly raised an eyebrow. 

“Can’t you hear them speaking?” she rolled her eyes. “I swear this hearing is going to take a while to get used to. They’re waiting outside of the room for any indication that you’ve woken up. We refuse to talk without you.” 

Stan took over the explanations then. “We can’t say that Bowers took Beverly now, but we can point out that Bowers was in the Neibolt house with us. The official story is that Beverly was taken in a home invasion and brought to the Neibolt house where she was locked into a room. He then went after you and took the rest of us by threatening to kill you if we didn’t comply. It’s a little far-fetched since there are so many of us, but it’s the best that we’ve got.” Stan admitted. “He took us into the sewers where we found Bev and Henry attacked Mike when It had It’s back turned. It sent Bowers running.”

“We don’t remember where in the sewers It took us, but we ended up in a large cave like area with dozens of decomposing bodies of children. That’s how we got the rain jacket.” Stan produced a now clean jacket, although it still had blood stains around the torn sleeve. Bill felt himself tear up a bit at the sight of Georgie’s jacket and he gratefully took the small jacket from Stan with shaking fingers. “It made the mistake of leaving us alone, and we ran as fast as we could, eventually coming to the quarry where we made our way back here. We figure whatever happens in the middle is up to you.”

Richie rolled his eyes theatrically, but he did put forwards some reassuring words. “We’ll follow your lead.”

Bill swallowed thickly, closing his eyes and composing himself. “Let’s get this over with.” he rasped softly. 

Inclining his head, Mike rapped on the door twice. A second later, the door opened to reveal 2 police officers. One was Officer Cunningham while the other was an unfamiliar police officer. Behind them, stood the parents. Ms. Kaspbrak was notably absent from the lineup. Bill shot a look at Eddie and Eddie just made a face. So it would seem that Eddie and his mother had had a showdown while Bill had been out. That would be something to address later. 

“William? It’s good to see that you’re awake. Do you remember me?” Officer Cunningham asked as he walked into the room. “I’m Officer Cunningham and this is Officer Jones.” 

Mike made his way out from behind the wall, coming to stand behind Stan as the Officers stood beside Beverly at the base of Bill’s bed. “Is it okay if your parents are here for this?” Officer Jones asked kindly, making eye contact with the Losers who had parents there to worry about them. Bill just nodded silently. 

Officer Jones inhaled softly before taking a seat on the very edge of the foot of the bed. “Can you tell us what happened?” She spoke as if she was speaking to small children, not a group of seven teenagers. “We just want to catch the person who did this to you so that they can’t do this to anyone else.”

“Person?” Richie snorted. “He was more like a monster.”

Officer Jones looked intrigued, but didn’t say anything, just letting them talk while she and Officer Cunningham frantically took notes. 

“My dad was yelling and trying to break into the bathroom to give me a beating for coming home late,” Beverly whispered, tucking herself further into her arms and hunkering down. Spinning her tale that wasn’t all lies. “He broke down the door and I hid in the shower. He was just yelling. And then… then there was a smash. The curtain was wrenched back and there he was. He was tall and beastly, dressed like a clown and so so angry.”

“I went to ch-check on Beverly. Our group had had a f-f-f-fight and we hadn’t seen each other in weeks. I wuh-wanted to make sure she was okay.” Bill whispered. “I smelled the blood and saw the message and I knew.”

Officer Cunningham stopped writing and quirked an eyebrow at Bill, disapproval heavy in his gaze. “Why didn’t you call the police when you found the body.”

Bill glared at him. “With everything that you’ve done for the missing kids in the past year? What good would you be able to do?”

“We could have helped, William. We’re adults and we have more training. What you did was dangerous.”

Bill’s upper lip curled. “Fat load of good you’ve done ever since my brother was killed. How many kids have died and still you have _ nothing.” _He hissed. “Not without us.”

Bill’s mother gasped, scandalized by the venom in his voice. “Bill!” she scolded but he ignored her. 

“I knew the police would do nuh-nothing. I kn-knew what he wuh-was after.” Bill continued. “I had seen him before. I w-wuh-w-went into the quarry to look for G-Georgie. He was there instead. I don’t think I’ve ev-v-ver run so f-fast. He had seen me th-then and he knew I’d see the m-m-message. I wuh-went to find the others.”

Richie sat up in his seat, jostling Eddie a little bit. “I was at the arcade when Bill found me, all in a huff. He said that ‘he had Bev’ and then he ran to get the others. We all met up at the abandoned house on Neibolt st. We were just going to begin to search the quarry when he appeared. He grabbed Bill faster than we could blink and then he was threatening to slit his throat if we didn’t do exactly as he said.”

“He took us deep into the sewers, locking us into a room. The knife never left Bill’s face.” Eddie looked haunted as he spoke, and Bill closed his eyes, his fingers tightening around the cloth of Georgie’s jacket. “Beverly was there but she was unconscious. He left with Bill and we tried to wake her up.”

“He took me to see Georgie.” 

Bill’s mother began to cry in earnest, closely followed by many of the other mothers in the room. 

“Then he⸺” Bill broke off, gesturing weakly at his face and the multiple lacerations along his jaw and over his eyebrow. The strangulation bruises all the more obvious on his throat. 

“With Bev’s help, we broke out and followed the screams.” Stan interrupted solemnly. “He had a knife and he was leaning over Bill. We didn’t know what to do. He would kill Bill if we moved.” He gestured wildly at Bill’s eyebrow. “We learned to not take chances. He was serious.”

Bill opened his eyes and looked Officer Cunningham right in the eyes, letting all the emotion bleed out of his own. “He said he’d let them go if they left me behind. He wanted to keep me.” Bill whispered, staring pointedly at the yellow jacket in his hands. “Then Richie threw a rock at him and he let me go. We just ran.”

Officer Cunningham’s pen stopped scratching against the pad of paper as Bill finished his statement. Bill gazed around the room looking at the parents impassively. Most had tears in their eyes and were staring at them as if they were broken little things that needed coddling. The Losers closed ranks around Bill just a little further, each scooting a bit closer to his body. They formed a literal barrier between him and the adults. 

“What did he look like?” Officer Jones prompted softly, reaching out as if to touch his leg above the covers and flinching away when Beverly draped herself protectively over his legs. 

“He was tall.” Stan explained, “and he wore bright white face paint. His hair was redder than Bev’s. His mouth was painted red and he had the most unsettling smile. He laughed the entire time.” Stan opened his mouth to continue, but then the parents finally stepped in. 

“That’s enough.” Stan’s mother growled, storming forwards and glaring at the police. “You can continue to ask them more later. We should let these children go home. They’ve had enough of a trial for today.” she turned to look at her son, her eyes fixed on the bandages around Stan’s head. “Is that why you said what you said at your bar mitzvah? Did he attack you earlier too?”

Stan pursed his lips and looked away from his mother’s imploring gaze. “It⸺He was what our fight was about. We’d all seen him, and Bill needed to find Georgie. Richie wasn’t going to risk his life going into the sewer. We ended up there anyways.”

Bill reached up and grabbed Stan’s hand from where it rested on his shoulder. Stan squeezed back reassuringly and Bill felt warmth from the others even if they weren’t touching him. He couldn’t stand the looks on all the parents’ faces. He slowly pushed himself up, accepting the help from Stan and Richie. He pointedly ignored the adults in the room before standing gingerly in the hospital gown. He looked imploringly at the others until Ben reached down into a bag sitting on the floor by his chair and produced some clean clothes. Bill let Stan gently lead him to the bathroom, trusting that the others could handle themselves. 

  


They all spent the night curled up together in Bill’s bedroom. No one slept a wink. 


	4. Where Do We Go If We're Not Together?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to school.

# IV. 

# Where Do We Go If We’re Not Together?

In the end, their parents kept them home for the first week of their freshman year. 

After that first night, none of them had been all that okay with leaving the others alone, and as such, they’d spent as much time together as they could and they barely slept when they were at their own houses. The only time they got a real sleep⸺like we’re talking the full 8 hours of sleep⸺was when they all curled up in a pile together. They had paired off for the most part (Bill and Stan; Richie and Eddie; Bev and Ben; only poor Mike was left on his own, but he was the most independent of them all anyways) but that only got them 5 hours of sleep. Enough to function well, but for some reason, as more time passed, they felt less and less inclined to sleep. They just didn’t need it as often as they used to. They didn’t even develop eye bags or any signs of weakness. Instead, they just looked eerily perfect. Almost in the uncanny valley kind of way. 

Their injuries healed way too fast for them to still be deluded about their status as humans. Eddie’s arm had already been entirely healed by the time they’d ended up in the hospital, but in only 4 days Bill’s cuts had sealed and he’d been able to remove the stitches. The scars looked rather garish, but they were well on their way to healing nonetheless. The bruises on his neck however had reached the stage of sickly purple and yellow without wanting to heal any further. They didn’t hurt all that much and he was fully capable of talking without any pain, but they were ghastly to look at. Stan’s own scars were just as angry as Bill’s.

The amplification of the half healed injuries only served to make them all look more unnerving than before. Like Bill had noticed, all of their teeth had sharpened into slight points at the end. Just enough to notice but not be blatant. Their eyes had gained that unnatural glint that It had always had. Like a cat, it almost seemed like their eyes glowed in the dark. Their smiles were just a little too wide⸺they had just a little too much teeth. Likewise, their voices had sharpened and smoothed out in ways that puberty just couldn’t be responsible for. There was just something uncomfortable about them now. The police officers stared at them oddly and while it was obvious that their parents wanted to make a bigger effort to be there for their children, they still kept their distance. 

Bill saw it at every dinner that he sat through. He’d gained a taste for rare meat, and the way that he sometimes tore into his food freaked out his parents. He really couldn’t find it in him to care when Stan and the others were just the same. 

They got looks in the streets now too. Almost overnight, everyone seemed to know that they’d been kidnapped and returned covered in blood and bandages. It was almost a relief to miss that first week of school. It gave them time to reorient themselves and get a grasp on their newfound… lifestyle. Beverly in particular had been very pleased when her aunt had agreed to stay in Derry for the next four years while Beverly attended high school⸺of course this had nothing to do with her _ convincing _the woman to stay⸺and she’d used the week of downtime to her advantage. 

She’d insisted that since Derry was now theirs by battle right, they should look the part. They would already be making a big entrance to schools after followed by some rather pervasive rumours. They could never really refuse Beverly anything before, but now… now they felt just how excited playing fashion designer was making her. 

Richie refused outright to make their motif clown themed but they all acquiesced to the idea of leather. Beverly thankfully had enough sense to know that she wouldn’t be able to get away with making them all wear leather jackets⸺not only was it basic as fuck, but she also had better fashion sense than that. Besides, she wouldn’t look all that great in a leather jacket anyways. 

In fact, only Stan had the honour of wearing the normal leather jacket. Beverly had also let him keep his normal get up of a button up shirt, khaki shorts, and a solid leather belt. Stan had argued that the belt should be enough, but Beverly insisted that the jacket really showed off his wonderful shoulders. All it took was Bill agreeing and then it was settled. 

Really, Mike and Ben also got off pretty easily. Mike hadn’t managed to convince his grandfather that he should go to a normal high school, but it gave him more time for his hobbies so he hadn’t been all that bothered. He also planned to make a point to bike over to the school to eat lunch with them sometimes; whenever he could get away. Ben worked a lot with his hands too and anything too extravagant would just get in the way. So Beverly had chosen to simply wrap braided leather cord around their wrists and call it a day. Ben was also given a makeover though, being given clothes that actually fit his figure and made him look rather striking. 

Richie had immediately been all over helping Beverly plan out all the outfits and had immediately claimed skintight leather pants all for himself. He claimed they made his ass look good, and although Eddie vehemently disagreed, they all knew that he really did like how Richie’s ass looked in those pants. Eddie for his part had been given a leather arm brace that he chose to wear on the arm that he’d had the cast on. He’d cited getting used to having a weight there, but no one really bought that excuse. Richie had been talked into wearing a flattering muscle shirt that matched Eddie’s and Eddie had been given a pair of skinny jeans along with it, to his displeasure.

Beverly had restrung her necklace and added a leather collar-like necklace that she called a choker. She’d joked about how she could be the group’s rabid dog. Out of all of them, she was probably the most vicious. Stan had rolled his eyes and Bill had sneered, but neither of them had refuted her point. Ben had pointed out that she could be their group’s Left Hand. The one to take care of the threats behind the scenes⸺the bloodthirsty one. Bev had been very pleased with that. Bev had declared that all her clothes were fashionable, so she saw no reason to change. None of them wanted to tell her any differently.

That just left Bill.

Beverly had actually given him the most control over his outfit choices, which was both surprising and not at the same time. He matched Stan in wearing khaki short but chose a baseball T-shirt like he usually wore. For his piece of leather, he’d chosen fingerless level gloves. Richie had mocked him for being edgy, but all it had taken was a pointed look at his leather pants and he’d shut up. By the end of the week they were all ready to go to school and make an appearance. A power move, if you will. 

In that time, the Losers had caught wind of rumours about what was happening at the high school. For years, it had been the Bowers Gang that had ruled the town with an iron fist. No one dared cross them, not even the police. However the Bowers Gang were gone. Patrick had been killed by It only a week or two into the summer. Henry had killed his other two cronies all on his own. The entire Bowers Gang was completely gone. Not everyone in the town was going to be aware of the shift in power going towards them after all, in particular, the children certainly wouldn’t know. They were always the last to realize. 

The adults had all instinctively begun to back off, but Bill was under no illusion that they wouldn’t have to establish their power with the student body. Not only were they freshman, but they were also the previous bully victims. It was rather stupid, but no one would believe that they were anything other than what they used to be. They kind of had a reputation and it was not a good one. Kids were good at ignoring the obvious, and teenagers in particular seemed to make it a sport to ignore their instincts. 

Bill looking so fucked up wasn’t even going to do him any favours. He looks like he took a beating. And the local news station had done a segment on their kidnapping including a police sketch of what they claimed that It looked like. They’d only been able to describe the clown, but the police had actually been someone impressive in their ability to construct more human features from this description. How they managed to get pictures of the Losers injuries, Bill really didn’t want to know. The press had to have their parents’ permission and he loathed to think about how they’d been taken when they were still covered in dirt and blood so it had to have been when he was unconscious. 

They were going to be picked on for getting kidnapped and almost killed. Bill knew his peers well enough to know this.

(Beverly was looking forward to trying out the extent of her powers when she was inevitably cornered in the bathroom.)

(None of them mentioned the visions of hair clogged drains and bloody spewing sinks. She’d earned her revenge.)

They met a block away from school, each of them pulling up on their bikes so that they could bike that last block together and arrive as a united front. It hadn’t been planned, but they’d all left at just the right time nonetheless. Lucky for them, the bike racks weren’t completely taken, and they were all able to secure their bikes without fail. Without speaking, they walked into the school. 

The halls were crowded with students of various grades. It was still 30 minutes before classes started, so pretty much everyone was at their lockers or talking with friends before they inevitably had to separate. This meant that there were plenty of people to gawk at them as they strode through the hall towards the main office. They needed to grab all their schedules and their locker assignments. Coincidentally (_ not _) there was a group of upper year boys gathered along the hallway by the office. They were standing just far enough into the hall to be in the Losers way. This must be the Bowers replacements. 

Well. Bill wasn’t going to let that fly.


	5. Maybe There's a Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An outside look at the first show down.

# V. 

# Maybe There’s a Reason

When Jonathan Cunningham had first moved to Derry after his dad got transferred, he’d actually been excited. Back in his hometown, he hadn’t been all that popular. He was a quiet guy, and everyone had already formed their own clicks, and Jonathan hadn’t been looking forward to facing his old bullies in high school. Luckily, the transfer had happened just in time for him to enter high school. Very few people even remembered that he’d once been the new kid now. He’d made lots of friends and had been there for all of one year before Bowers⸺the Sheriff’s son and everything!⸺came to Derry High. After that, everything went to hell. 

Bowers was not someone to be messed with, and the little psycho intimidated pretty much everyone. The kid was far too violent and he had the protection of his dad to boot. He was bad enough on his own, but then he made friends with Patrick Hockstetter and it had been only downhill from there. If the Bowers kid was a psycho on his own, then with teaming up with someone like Hockstetter, he was nothing short of a terrorist. He bullied anyone without mercy or exception. If any of the upper years so much as protested to Bowers’ reign, Hockstetter set them straight. Bowers would shank you in an alley, but Hockstetter would skin you alive in broad daylight. It helped that Hockstetter wasn’t just another freshman trying to prove themselves like Bowers so clearly was. Hockstetter was in _ his _year.

He’d been lucky to escape Hockstetter up until that point. 

For the most part, the Bowers Gang didn’t go after the upper years. The upper years were smart enough to know when to stay out of the way, and those that weren’t were usually taken care of pretty fast. Every now and then, Bowers would make an example of someone, and that would silence any of the mounting protests. 

Everyone knew though, when Bowers found his favourite targets. Stan “Urine” Uris was an easy target. He was part of the town’s tiny Jewish community, and he dressed like he was already a 30-year-old dad with a full-time job. Even the kid’s yearmates ripped into him mercilessly. He was easy to freak out, what with the incessant need for order. He always had that look on his face like he smelled a fart. Eddie “Freak” Kaspbrak was just as much of an easy target. He was small for his age and chronically ill. He hated any kind of mess and was prone to freaking out explosively. The kid also had pride, and he refused to tattle. To Jonathan that was foolish, but then he caught a glimpse of Ms. Kaspbrak shrieking at the elementary school’s principal on the way home from his own classes and he instantly understood why Eddie kept his mouth shut. 

Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier was one of Bowers’ absolute favourites to taunt. Richie was infamous even amongst the high school students for having an absolutely filthy mouth. He would fight and argue with absolutely anyone about anything. He cursed every other word and was spewed just as much taunts as Bowers did. However, almost as soon as Bowers appeared, the kid shut up and avoided eye contact. It was so odd to see such a vibrant person turn into a shadow of themselves. Jonathan really felt for the kid, even if he was a constant source of annoyance. Everyone knew how shitty his home life was, although no one dared to bring it up lest Richie turn his sights to them and poking absolutely every button they had. 

Finally, there was “Stuttering Bill” Denbrough. He was the leader of the group that the other three had formed. It puzzled Jonathan, because Denbrough was probably the quietest one other than Uris. He’d been in a traumatic car crash when he was just 3 years old, and he’d sustained some brain damage which meant that he had a stutter. Being shy only made that stutter worse. Still, he was a bright kid. He always had a smile to share with anyone and he was damn smart too if the teacher gossip was to be believed. He was just a little overshadowed by his brother. His parents hadn’t been all that ready when they had him, and they were a lot more negligent in the care of their eldest child. 

Denbrough lost that demeanor when his little brother went missing. 

In all honesty, Jonathan hadn’t done any research on Derry before or after moving. It was a small town. He really hadn’t thought that that was all that important. If he had done research, he would have learned that Derry was quite the tragedy magnet. Another tragedy befell Derry only a couple months before. It had started with little George Denbrough. 

He’d been playing in the rain when someone had taken him. All that had been left behind was a massive pool of blood by the sewers. 

It was more blood than a child could lose and survive.

The Denbroughs had shut themselves in and Bill Denbrough drowned in his grief. Even Bowers had had the decency to not torment the kid for the remainder of the school year. 

But the disappearances only continued from there. More and more kids just up and disappeared one day. Soon the numbers were well into the dozens. Jonathan could hardly believe that it was happening. He’d never seen anything like this before. Even Patrick Hockstetter had disappeared!

And then… then it’d come out that Bowers had violently murdered his father and his two remaining friends.

Denbrough and his friends had gotten kidnapped and barely escaped with their lives. 

Bowers had been part of the scheme. 

It…

It was just so _ unbelievable _ that something like this was happening in such a small town. Jonathan had _ never _expected this to happen. 

So now they were starting a new school year and Denbrough and his little Losers’ Club hadn’t shown up. Jonathan hadn’t honestly expected them to show up. They had made the front page of every newspaper in the town⸺pictures of their injuries plastered all over. They’d all been absolutely covered in blood spatter and the Denbrough kid had been all cut up. He was by far the most injured. Jonathan’s mother was a nurse and she’d worked on cleaning and treating the kids’ wounds. She’d claimed that they’d refused to leave Denbrough’s side the entire time. 

He couldn’t blame them for being so scared. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what they had gone through and then having that awful experience broadcasted for everyone to see… 

Sometimes Jonathan really hated Derry. 

He was digging through his locker on the Monday of the second week of school, utterly perplexed at how he managed to have this much shit in his locker _ already _⸺when the doors of the school seemed to open with a grand fanfare. Nothing was actually abnormal about how it opened⸺hell, he couldn’t even hear the sound of the doors opening over the din of students talking with each other. Jonathan was one of those students who was unfortunate enough to have a locker in the front hall of the school, so he’d gotten quite adept at ignoring the general ongoings of the people around him. He had his own group of friends and he never had to worry about anyone else. 

But for some reason, his eyes were drawn to the opening of the door. He couldn’t begin to explain why he stopped digging through his locker and looked over his shoulder, but he did. He had mixed feelings about whether that was a good thing. 

Standing in the entryway, was a group of 6 teenagers of varying heights. At the front was a boy with a slightly choppy hairstyle. For the most part, he wore a plain basic outfit, the only thing that stood out about it was the fact that he was wearing fingerless gloves made with what looked like leather. Not only was it September, but fingerless gloves made out of leather wasn’t something that he’d thought existed. Of all the materials… it just didn’t seem to serve a purpose. The teen had a dark look about him; his mouth was set in a slight frown, and his brow bone jutted over dark eyes to create an effortlessly brooding look. He simultaneously looked like he’d seen some serious shit, and oh so very young. There were horrendous wounds bisecting his eyebrow and clawed along his jaw. The pale skin of his neck was mottled with purple bruises that were shaped like hands. There was something seriously wrong there⸺

Beside him was a taller boy and a girl about the same height as the centre teen. The boy had tightly curled hair in a mop on the top of his head. He had a sneer plastered onto his face, glaring down his nose at the common populous, his slightly scrunched features highlighting wounds circling his face in a similar state of healing to the other boy’s. He wore a leather jacket and khakis⸺definitely a choice outfit. 

The girl had hair as bright as fire and eyes that pierced through the crowd and seemed to skewer anyone her gaze settled on for just a little too long. Her hair was cropped short and it curled about wildly, like an untamed beast. She wore clothing that complemented her figure, but didn’t make her look slutty like some of the other high school girls did. She was stunning; there was no doubt about it. But she just looked… slightly off. He had no idea what it was about her, but she just looked… dangerous. Maybe it was the way that she smiled. It just had a little too much teeth and it was anything but kind. 

Standing beside her in an almost protective fashion despite his shorter stature was a rather portly teen. He was chubby and bulky, and had none of the fitness and litheness that any of the other teens he was with possessed. Like the first kid, he had a bit of bruising, but it was far subtler and a bit more evenly spread and less defined. He didn’t look like the other fat teens though, he actually dressed for his size; not over or under like many people did. He had his hands shoved carelessly in his jean pockets. The girl seemed to be aware of him and the stance that he’d taken and was completely unbothered by it. In fact, she even seemed to revel in the attention. 

On the other side was a couple of teenage boys that were clearly wrapped around each other. The taller teen stood to the outside of the group in aggressively tight leather pants that left nothing to the imagination. For a teen that clearly wasn’t a senior, he didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. He wore large thick rimmed glasses, but instead of making him look like an absolute nerd, they only served to hide his eyes from view and layer mystery onto him. He stood with a posture that was nothing short of predatory. Another teen was tucked underneath his arm. This guy was small and had immaculately styled hair. Like the leather jacket teen, he had a sneer of disgust on his face, although this one was far more obvious and comical. He gazed at everyone with open disgust like they had pissed on a towel and held it out for him to use. He had a strange arm brace on that almost seemed out of place on the tiny teen. 

For a moment, Jonathan had no clue who they were, but then it clicked and he couldn’t help but wonder how he could have ever thought that they weren’t the Losers’ Club. It was just so obvious. The kid with the freshly healed scars on his face was clearly Bill Denbrough, and the leather jacket guy was Stanley Uris. The girl, Beverly Marsh, and that would make the portly fellow the other newcomer to Derry, Ben Hanscolm. That meant that the kid with the glasses was Richie Tozier and the kid tucked possessively under his arm was Eddie Kaspbrak. 

Jonathan wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity. 

The Losers effortlessly grabbed the attention of everyone in the hallway and they hadn’t even taken any steps or made any noise. Almost as if they were a collective conscience, the student body quieted and hushed whispers filled the hall as everyone came to the conclusion that this was indeed the now infamous Losers Club. Not only had they outlived the Bowers Gang⸺something everyone had previously thought to be impossible until they did it too⸺but they’d survived something that _ Patrick Hockstetter _hadn’t survived. 

That honestly said more about them than anything. 

It seemed like all everyone wanted to do was get a glimpse of the infamous gang of children. If Jonathan remembered correctly, there was actually a seventh member of their little gang. Mike Hanlon was a home schooled kid though, so Jonathan really shouldn’t have been surprised to see that he hadn’t arrived with the others. But it almost felt weird to only see six of them… like they were incomplete; missing something. 

The freshmen surveyed the hallway briefly, each one casting their own version of a condescending look. Then as one, they began to make their way down the hallway, effortlessly walking around people without even bothering to give them more than a cursory glare. They were making their way towards the office⸺of course they were, they needed their schedules since they were arriving late⸺when the worst possible thing to happen did. 

You see, despite the Bowers Gang being gone, it did not mean that the teenage populous of Derry was safe from being tormented and ruled over by tyrants. From the bloody remains of the Bowers Gang rose another gang of unsavory characters. This gang consisted of maybe eight or nine of them and they were all seniors who had privately protested to Bowers’ power over the student populous. The ring leader was slated to be this year’s valedictorian and he had always had a chip on his shoulder about being ruled by a sophomore. It upset the power balance or something. 

As soon as the news broke that Bowers had gone insane and _ killed everyone, _ Ethan Woodstock had seized his chance for power and gathered his friends. They were all football players, and since they were much more charismatic than Bowers, the upper years hadn’t protested. Some had offered up their own little token rebellions, but it never became anything. Woodstock and his cronies still picked on the lower years, but they weren’t like Hockstetter or Bowers in the way that they didn’t try to _ carve up the younger kids. _ And they _ never _ went after anyone that wasn’t in high school or about to enter high school. He defended himself by saying that if they didn’t learn before freshman year who was in charge, then they might… ‘get ideas’.

He hadn’t gone near Denbrough’s group though. He’d claimed it would be distasteful, especially when they should have already known how things worked due to the fact that Bowers mainly picked on them. They had been such easy targets, and with how they had just been kidnapped…

Well, apparently that resolution to not get involved with Denbrough and his friends hadn’t lasted all that long, since apparently the fact that they were walking into school was enough for Woodstock to appear out of nowhere with his gang. They were all leaning against various areas of the wall, cutting off the pathway and forcing them to stop just feet away from their destination. 

They too, were wearing their own little gang signifiers. They were yet to truly be established, and Woodstock was always the one about power plays. He just hadn’t assumed that Denbrough was. 

(Although with the way that Marsh was smiling that little bloodthirsty grin of hers, he suspected that it might not have been Denbrough’s decision.)

“Well if it isn’t Denbrough,” Woodstock said, his voice booming with that slightly posh accent that thinking you were better than everyone else produced. It was irritating, but he was no Bowers, and no one wanted to turn him into Bowers. So, no one said anything. “Welcome to Derry High, we hope you enjoy your stay.” he mocked, sweeping his arms out in a grand gesture. “We just wanted to make sure that you knew how things are going to be running from now on.”

Denbrough looked up at Woodstock, the beefy quarterback towering over the kid’s skinny frame. He tilted his head ever so slightly before smiling this small _ terrifying _ smile. “S-s-so, _ you’re _Bowers; replacement?” he stutters softly, the hall going dead silent. He spoke far quieter than normal⸺nothing more than a conversational tone⸺and yet it seemed to echo through the hallway. 

Woodstock straightened up a little bit more. “I just took back what was rightfully mine. Bowers being in charge was nothing more than his daddy protecting him.”

Marsh actually snorted at that and it didn’t look like Kaspbrak and Tozier were right behind her. Denbrough tilted his head a little further, allowing the light to catch the angry looking scars along his jaw.

(They should have healed that fast and Jonathan didn’t know how they could possibly be explained but he didn’t want to think about it too hard. If you thought about certain things in Derry for too long, bad things happened. It was better to ignore it.)

“It wasn’t yours to take.”

Huh. The stutter wasn’t there. That was… odd. Denbrough had stuttered just a sentence before, and it sounded as awful as ever. It was… unsettling. 

Woodstock reared back in shock at Denbrough’s blunt statement and the onlookers blatantly gawked. The Losers had always been mouthy little shits, but they’d known when to call it quits with Bowers. Did they think that just because it was now Woodstock that he wouldn’t beat their asses?

“I don’t approve of hitting brats, but it looks like you need an attitude check,” Woodstock growled, his face going bright red. In a poorly organized move, the cronies had stood up from their positions and began to move to back Woodstock up as he raised his fists and cracked his knuckles. Jonathan felt a yell catch in his throat⸺he didn’t know what he was going to say, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to watch Woodstock wail on a kid that had just escaped his own murderer. 

But he didn’t have time to react past that because Woodstock had already thrown his punch right at Denbrough’s face. It was headed right for Denbrough’s nose only… it didn’t land. Denbrough had moved just slightly to the side, watching Woodstock’s fist fly past him with a bored look. “Is thuh-that all?” he asked, his voice reflecting the same amount of boredom as his blank face. Then, his gaze hardened and before any of them even blinked, he’d thrown his own punch and knocked Woodstock flat on his ass. 

“P-puh-pathetic,” Denbrough sneered, gazing at the downed quarterback. Blood leaked from Woodstock’s nose and covered his entire front. Denbrough’s knuckles were also covered in the blood. He even took it one step farther and spat at Woodstock, enraging his cronies. 

(It looked so natural to see it there that Jonathan had to take a double take when he realized he didn’t see anything wrong with that.)

Jonathan didn’t know what was happening. That shouldn’t have been possible! Skinny little Denbrough had just taken down a senior more than a foot taller than him! And he didn’t even look winded. 

Marsh giggled brightly, the laughter high pitched and like that of a child in a horror movie. “Now, now. You might want to stay down, like the good dog that you are. Hand the throne to over to us⸺at least we know how to take care of it.” Her smile only widened, her usually pretty features twisted into something… _ other. _

Woodstock was holding his nose and staring in shock. Jonathan doubted that _ anyone _had punched him before, let alone someone the size of Denbrough. “Y-you! You broke my nose!” he yelled in shock as his friends quickly grabbed him and helped him up. 

“Aww. Someone huh-has a stutter!” Denbrough crooned, leaning forwards and smiling. There was a heavy feeling in the air. Jonathan watched as blood dripped from Denbrough’s fingers and hit the floor. “I-i-isn’t that c-cute.” 

Woodstock actually flinched back, clearly seeing something in Denbrough’s eyes that Jonathan couldn’t see from his angle. He looked terrified.

Tozier rolled his eyes. “Look, we all get it that something broke in your head, Bill, but you also have a stutter, dipshit.”

Kaspbrak smacked Tozier lazily. “Beep beep, Richie.”

They acted like he hadn’t said something so concerning. Bill didn’t even react other than an eye roll of his own and a small wordless gesture to Uris. The Losers heads all perked up, turning to look at Denbrough expectantly, before as one, they moved to shove past Woodstock and his cronies. They broke through and walked into the office with little fanfare. There was a beat of silence before the hallway was filled with panicked whispers as they watched Woodstock’s friends frantically move to drag a still shocked Woodstock towards the nurse’s office. 


	6. And All These Shapes, They Don't Make a Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the sewers the deputies go.

#  VI. 

#  And All These Shapes, They Don’t Make a Sound

Officer Cunningham had had the dubious honour of becoming the sheriff after Bowers was killed, and honestly, after only a couple of months, he was regretting ever transferring to Derry in the first place. 

He hadn’t been directly involved in the missing kids cases until near the very end, but seeing all the posters had taken its toll on him. Then, there’d been such a high body count that he’d been forced to be involved in the case. They needed every man they could get. Hell, he was even considering having a volunteer search to try and at least find the bodies of the missing kids. The only reason he hadn’t immediately jumped on the chance to be proactive in the way that his predecessor hadn’t was that the killer was still out there and he was still hunting⸺Denbrough and his group of friends being the chief evidence and their only lead. 

He didn’t want to be responsible for getting more children killed. Finding the already dead kids was going to be hard enough. 

Unfortunately, the surviving Denbrough kid and his friends were the  _ only  _ lead they had. It was like Bowers had done absolutely  _ no  _ investigating into finding any of these kids! Officer Cunningham was lucky that he’d been the one to file the missing persons reports or there wouldn’t even be a number of kids that they had to look for. And that was just the confirmed cases! Tozier’s parents hadn’t even known that he’d gone missing before they had gone to them to see if the second missing Denbrough kid was with them. They had thought that their son was with Denbrough. 

Officer Cunningham had heard an awful lot about the elder Denbrough kid lately. It had started back when the youngest Denbrough had gone missing, presumably killed. The Denbroughs had all been grieving, and Cunningham remarked seeing Denbrough alone more often than not⸺even in the grocers! He couldn’t remember doing anything about it, or even anyone else mentioning it though. That, in itself was kind of odd. 

Then Denbrough himself had gone missing and the sheriff’s office had been bombarded with phone calls and eventually an in-person visit from the Denbroughs because William had gone missing too. The Sheriff had been killed just that morning by none other than his son, whom they now had in custody. That should have been their main concern, but Officer Cunningham knew the odds of finding the kids after 24 hours had elapsed since the disappearance⸺he’d worked in a bigger city and seen his own fair share of disappearance cases (what was it about Derry that had made him so complacent?). He’d rallied the police force and they’d gone to check out the Denbrough kid’s friends houses only to find that it wasn’t just William that had gone missing. 

Gathering more and more newly concerned parents, (who lets their kids wander in and out of the house when there’s a serial killer known for kidnapping kids in broad daylight?) they'd gone to the woods in the hope of finding the kids. It was getting dark, and the Denbroughs had admitted that they had no idea when their remaining son had even gone missing. Officer Cunningham knew that it hadn’t looked good for the kids, but he didn’t want to say anything quite yet. 

Then, against all odds, Denbrough and his friends had shown up.

Each and every one of those kids had been absolutely covered in blood and filth and some even had vicious looking open wounds. There were tear tracks cutting through the grime and blood on their faces.

His heart had nearly broken when he saw the way that Denbrough flinched away from his own parents. No matter how neglectful they might have been, after going through something clearly traumatic, Denbrough should have run into the arms of his parents. Something serious had gone down. 

The injuries they’d sustained had been extensive. Denbrough had been beyond lucky that those cuts along his jaw hadn’t gone any deeper into his neck or he would have bled out. Their injuries were an absolute mystery, as Denbrough’s story didn’t explain how Uris had been hurt or how they’d even managed to escape. By all logic, they should have been running through the sewers for hours. It was far too easy to get lost there, and they were running from a killer while injured. The killer being able to take so many kids at once didn’t make sense either. Denbrough had to be lying. 

But what was he lying about? There was too much mystery surrounding that group of children. And that story was their best bet on finding the kids. 

(His son had come home one day from school looking absolutely shaken. When he’d asked what had happened, he said that Denbrough and his friends had had their first day of high school that day. He refused to say anything else, but his son had clearly been terrified.)

(The mystery of those kids continued to grow and warp.)

The one thing that made some sense was the casual mention of the old well house on Neibolt street. It had definitely just been a throw away sentence to make their story seem a little more cohesive, but it was still an important clue. It wasn’t something that was meant to be a lie or misleading. That means that they had actually gone to the Neibolt house. Cunningham even imagined that they actually ended up in the sewers. There was no other way for them to get so dirty after all…

With a heavy heart, he gathered up a task force and they drove to the Neibolt house.

It was even more broken down that he had suspected and he wondered just how he had never been on this particular street before. Surely he would have seen this house. 

“Hey! I think I found something!” Officer Jones called out, halting the procession of police officers beginning to make their way towards the porch. She held up a blue fanny pack half open and spilling out various prescription medication bottles. She pulled at one of the bottles and looked at the label. “Well, Kaspbrak at the very least was here at some point. We’re going in the right direction, Chief.” 

He pursed his lips and turned back towards the open door. The wood was rotting and the doorknob was completely missing. It looked like it had been kicked open⸺something that wasn’t outside the realm of possibility due to the state of the door. Even though the kids were small, they would have been able to kick in the door just based on how week it was. He walked past his own deputies to enter the house, clicking on his flashlight and holding his gun in front of him in case the killer was there waiting for them. 

The house was dark and absolutely covered in cobwebs and other gross shit. People had obviously squatted here at some point, but it had been a while since then. 

There were small footprints on the ground; seven sets of them. And they were everywhere. It was like the kids had been running around the house⸺further disproving their statement about the man who had taken them to the sewers. If they had been running around, how had  _ all  _ of them been taken? It just didn’t make sense. Eventually, he finds the biggest cluster of footprints leading down stairs. “This way,” he calls back to the others who were beginning to look sick as they found a splatter of what looked like old blood on the walls. 

The stairs were rickety, and for a moment, he doubted the old wood’s ability to support his weight. He was by no means out of shape, but he was still heavier than those kids. The basement had a very basic layout, but the walls weren’t what drew his attention. It was a well. It had blood along the side of the walls. That wasn’t promising. 

There was a rope with knots along it, reminding him of the ropes that they had to climb in the police academy. The rope descended down into the crumbling well, and it looked to have dark stains around the edges of some of the knots. That wasn’t a good sign. 

He could swear that some of the kids had had bloody hands when they’d been taken to the hospital, but for some reason he was having trouble remembering any injuries on them besides the Denbrough kid’s facial wounds. 

That was odd… he shouldn’t have forgotten such simple facts so quickly. It hadn’t been that long surely…

He made his way towards the well, his slow footsteps drawing the attention from the deputies as he went. Peering over the edge of the well revealed that it descended into what he can only assume is the very pits of hell. The rope cut off maybe 15 feet down from the top of the well, but anything past that was pitch blackness. However, he knew that it had to go to the quarry, because that was where Henry Bowers had claimed to have resurfaced after falling down the well. Officer Cunningham couldn’t imagine surviving that fall, but maybe the darkness obscured a massive pit of water. Just past the 15 ft, was a hole in the wall of the well, and it looked to be slick with some dark stains. That was where they were going to have to go.

With a grimace, he turned back to look at his fellow officers. “There’s blood on the bricks and the rope.” he reported grimly. “Just under 15 feet down there looks to be some kind of passage. I’m willing to bet that the kids ended up down there.”

This was in direct contradiction to the story that the kids told the police, but  _ someone  _ had climbed either down or up that rope while covered in blood. They were going to find  _ something.  _ The only alternative was to go through the quarry and hope that they could find the path that the kids took without any kind of trail to follow. 

One of the newer officers shifted nervously. Officer Cunningham recognized him as Edward Ripsom. His sister had gone missing a while back⸺Cunningham remembered the kids mentioning that they’d found one of her shoes in the quarry. “I, uh, are you sure we have to go down there?” he said uncertainly, glancing dubiously at the rope and how it was secured to the ceiling. Cunningham’s grimace deepened. Yeah, he didn’t know if he trusted his weight with that rope either, but Bowers survived the fall. Surely it couldn’t be… that bad. 

“If we want to find those missing kids,” he said, “we’re gonna have to.”

Ripsom pursed his lips, visibly steeling his nerves before pushing past Cunningham and shoving his gun in his holster and his flashlight between his teeth. In one fluid motion, he began to climb down the rope, not even giving himself time to see if the rope would actually support his weight. He was a determined fool, but the others were quick to rush over to shine light down the well so that he could see. Another officer even went so far as to grab the rope in an effort to stabilize it.

Ripsom eventually reached the end of the rope and he was pretty much level with the opening that Cunningham had seen. “I think the tunnel goes through!” Ripsom yelled upwards as he began to gently swing the rope just a little closer to the wall, tucking into the tunnel. 

One by one, they followed after, and soon they were all crawling through the tunnels. Cunningham had been right in believing that this would be a good lead. The trail of blood had continued, and along the way they saw bits and pieces of children’s clothing. The smell was absolutely awful, but they found that they went nose-blind rather quickly. 

Eventually, they came to some slightly larger tunnels and they were able to stand and walk through them. The tunnels were eerily silent and Cunningham sure wasn’t the only one to pull out his gun. Then they came upon the mouth of what looked to be a larger cavern. It was maybe the size of a standard sitting room, and far larger than one would expect from a series of sewers. 

Cunningham raised his hand silently, halting the procession as he peaked around the mouth of the tunnel. 

“Officer Cunningham! It’s been a while!” a cheerful voice called from the room, drawing Cunningham’s eyes. He very nearly jolted back into the tunnel when he saw that the room wasn’t as empty as he expected it to be. He and the others took a couple steps into the room, all of the deputies staring in shock at the gathered ensemble.

The source of the voice was a lanky teenager sitting on a pipe above their heads and grinning loonishly down at them from behind bottle-bottom glasses. His curly hair bounced ever so slightly when he tilted his head quizzically at them. If the glasses hadn’t already given him away, the very obvious leather pants that his son had told him about certainly had. Standing just below Tozier and deliberately  _ not  _ touching anything, was Tozier’s apparent counterpart. Kaspbrak was short, but he was a little ball of rage. His hair was perfectly styled and his arm cast had been replaced by a decorative brace. The most notable thing about the kid was that he  _ wasn’t  _ wearing a fanny pack. He was distinctly reminded of the fanny pack that they found outside of the Neibolt house. 

“What brings you down here?” a feminine voice chirped and Officer Cunningham jerked his head away from the duo⸺and the mini heart attack that he was having due to Tozier perching on top of a  _ very  _ unstable pipe⸺to see that the rest of Denbrough’s group (including Denbrough himself) were also gathered in the room. Hanlon and Hanscom were standing in behind a large well-like structure that was in the centre of the room. 

The pipe had a large lip that prevented one from accidentally slipping and falling in, but still low enough that it only came to hip level for the teens. In front of the pipe was Denbrough and Marsh. Like Tozier, Marsh was squatting on the lip of the pipe  _ and giving him another heart attack _ , but Denbrough was simply leaning against it lazily. Marsh’s bright hair contrasted with the gloom of the dimly lit area⸺

And wasn’t that just something? The only light in the room was created by the police force’s flashlights. That means that the teens had been standing in the dark this entire time. What the hell were they doing in the sewers in the darkness?

(Their flashlights were all focused on the central group. Officer Cunningham didn’t want to think too hard about how Tozier and Kaspbrak’s eyes were still clearly visible despite having almost no light cast upon them.)

⸺Denbrough stood in plain contrast to her. The odd lighting the redness of the still healing scars across his face and reminding them again of how they’d failed him. He shouldn’t have ever even come into contact with his brother’s murderer, let alone had to save himself with only his friends to rely on. The police force was supposed to handle these things, and Denbrough was a visceral reminder that they hadn’t been able to. 

He stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his chin jutted forward in defiance just slightly as if he was challenging them. All of their eyes were hard and sharp. Despite the smiles on Marsh’s and Tozier’s faces⸺weren’t they just like two peas in a pod; the twin devils⸺there was very little mirth in their eyes. The smiles were less out of joy and more a baring of teeth. A visual reminder that what they were looking at was dangerous and  _ would  _ bite. 

“Yes. Don’t you have missing kids to be finding? Parents to be interviewing? I know you didn’t do any of that before.” 

This time, Officer Cunningham did jump, and he wasn’t the only one. If Officer Jones had had her gun still raised, Cunningham was sure that she would have shot. It was actually very good that she hadn’t, because then she would have shot  _ yet another one of Denbrough’s people.  _ Behind them, leaning against the wall, was the Uris’ youngest kid. He was wearing a large leather jacket that he surprisingly filled out. It seemed like he’d hit his growth spurt since the attack, and where he previously had come to about the same height as Denbrough, now towered over the little leader of the kids. 

He stalked past them, brushing shoulders roughly with Ripsom and a couple other officers, offering only a sneer as he past. He came to stand to Denbrough’s right, looking for all the world like he thought that they were scum. 

Cunningham’s throat seemed to seize up. 

“What do you think we’re doing? My sister disappeared too, you little shit⸺” Ripsom burst out before being shut up by Officer Jones smacking him across the back of the head and hissing at him. He turned his outraged glare at her and opened his mouth as if to continue with his tirade, but he was cut off by the kids in front of them. 

“Real professional there,” Uris said, wrinkling his nose like he just got a whiff of the shit that this sewer was no doubt full of. 

Marsh snickered and her grin widened even further, twisting her features unnaturally. “You might want to be a bit more professional. We’ve had quite a lot of traumatic experiences lately, ya know. Bill’s brother died, and his parents didn’t even notice that he went missing! How sad! My daddy died too and now aren’t we lucky that the Denbrough’s got off their asses and remembered that they had a second child” she singsonged. “If they hadn’t, then no one would have known that we were missing in the first place. Would you have blamed me for murder?”

Jones flinched violently at Marsh’s pondering. Cunningham himself wanted to flinch. In all likelihood, the Marsh girl  _ would  _ have been their initial suspect were it not for what happened in the wake of her father’s death. He didn’t like to think about just how much their system was failing the citizens of Derry, but these kids made it undeniably clear that they were inadequate. 

Ripsom looked like he wanted to smack the kids, but luckily, he seemed to recover himself, and he held his tongue.

The kids didn’t make it any easier for him.

“She’s dead.”

It was the Denbrough kid who had spoken. His gaze was hard, and seemed to pierce through Ripsom. His voice⸺which Cunningham knew to still have a prominent stutter (because brain damage didn’t just go away after gaining confidence)⸺surprisingly clear and stutter free in that one sentence, punctuating it even further.

Ripsom didn’t hesitate to no longer hold his tongue. “How do you know that?” he demanded harshly, pushing past Jones on his way to walk towards Denbrough. Cunningham didn’t have it in him to stop Ripsom’s approach. In their arrogance and childishness, they were revealing important clues that might just help them find the bodies of the missing kids. 

He didn’t believe their story was entirely truthful⸺and he was pretty confident that the kids were a lot less innocent than they claimed they were.

Marsh’s father had been hit over the head with a toilet cover. Marsh had a history of being abusive, and everyone knew that he struggled with dealing with his daughter after his wife took her own life in sickness. He’d never done anything in public, but it was impossible to not see the signs. The murder was clearly self-defense, but Cunningham was still willing to turn a blind eye and allow the kids to pin that murder on the serial kidnapper. It wasn’t like it was outside the realm of possibility for that kidnapper to kill in order to get his targets. Marsh just happened to not be alone and the kidnapper had had to improvise. 

But the kids’ behaviour now… it was nothing short of unsettling and did nothing to convince him that they were capable of remorse. He had no doubt that they’d been with the kidnapper at one point⸺it was even believable that one of them was taken⸺but he had a feeling that they’d gone after him as opposed to being taken. Over the years of working in a big city police force, he’d learned that trusting his gut was important.

And sometimes, one turned a blind eye when kids were involved.

Whether that meant turning a blind eye to abuse or to a murder in self-defence, depended entirely on the cop turning a blind eye.

Denbrough turned his head to look over at Uris and the others. As if on cue, Tozier proceeded to leap down from his little pipe and landed in front of Kaspbrak with a loud thump as his feet hit the floor. His grin widened to a similar level as Marsh’s. “Well, I suppose you’re in luck,” he mused loudly. “We know these tunnels fairly well by now. We can take you to… It.”

He said that far too brightly for something of this subject manner.

However, this was better than they could have hoped for. If the kids had found the bodies… then that would solve a great deal of problems. It was the killer’s haunt, he would most likely return.

(He wondered why it felt like Tozier had capitalized the ‘I’ in ‘it’.)

“Lead the way.” he said, not wanting to pass this chance up despite how morally dubious it could be considered. This time, even Denbrough  bared his teeth smiled. As one, they turned and began to walk through a tunnel near the back of the wall, and the police force were quick to follow, trembling slightly in the dark. 

Just before they went through the tunnel, Marsh turned back to beam at them, her eyes glowing in the dark. “Make sure you stay close! It would be terrible if any of you got lost down here!”

They were lucky that they had the flashlights, otherwise it would be very difficult for them to even begin to navigate the tunnels. 

Jones had offered Denbrough and Uris the use of her flashlight, but Uris had merely raised an eyebrow at her. 

(“Are you sure you don’t want a flashlight?”

“Why? There’s no need.”

“Oh. Okay. As long as you’re sure.”

“We are.”)

It felt like it took hours to wander through the sewers, but it hadn’t been more than 15 minutes before they came across yet another cavern, except this one was disproportionately massive. It was inconceivable how it even fit anywhere! Where even were they? Where could this possibly be that it could go undetected. He took a solid minute just to gawk at the size before turning his flashlight to the centre of the room and instantly regretting it. 

There was a massive pile of  _ junk  _ in the centre easily piled 2 stories high. At the front, there appeared to be an old circus caravan that looked to have been set on fire at some point. The pile was made almost entirely of children’s toys and belongings, but twisted and broken. However, it wasn’t the pile that was the most horrifying thing there. Gathered around the pile were heaps of corpses, some more decomposed than others. They were mangled and looked like they had been ransacked by animals due to the sheer volume of bite marks⸺it was simply terrifying to consider that it had been a human that had torn through the flesh of these children. 

Their bodies were piled up haphazardly like they didn’t matter, and one was even cut in half⸺maybe the word ‘cut’ was too clean. It looked like she had been ripped apart by sheer inhuman strength. Her entrails were pooled out on the grim covered ground. 

Ripsom choked harshly behind him, and he knew that the girl was his sister.

Officer Jones leaned over and threw up near the side of the wall. 

In that moment, the scent hit him and he had to resist the urge to join the rest of the deputies in throwing up at the sight. The kids, looked completely unaffected. How long had they known that this was here? They hadn’t said anything about this in their statements. 

Then his eyes drifted further and saw something even worse than the mangled kids. A little ways off past the pile of junk, there was a pile of blood and cloth. At first, he hadn’t thought that it was a corpse, but the longer he stared at it, the more features he could see. It was a tall man⸺probably close to 7 feet⸺dressed as a clown. His skull was caved in and his limbs were contorted in ways that Cunningham knew to be consistent with blunt force trauma. There was blood and bile everywhere around the corpse too.

Cunningham bent over and threw up at the kids’ feet. 

What had they done?

  
  
  


Maybe there was a reason why ignoring their children was a time honoured Derry tradition.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Party of Losers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20828543) by [RoseThorn14](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseThorn14/pseuds/RoseThorn14)


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